BushyHaired KnowItAll
by Lillielle
Summary: A moment at Platform 9 3/4, where Lucius figures out a few home truths about a certain Muggleborn. No relationship! One-shot, complete. Set after 5th year. AU, Voldy dead, no Umbridge. I don't own HP, sadly.


Bushy-Haired Know-It-All

A/N: This is AU. Voldemort is gone. Lucius Malfoy is not quite..._evil_, but he's not exactly on the side of all that's good and light, either. And he still has some very mixed-up ideas about blood purity as a result of Voldemort's idiocy. Set the summer after fifth year. [Oh, and Umbitch-I mean UMBRIDGE-never taught at Hogwarts. Thank Gawd.] One-shot. Just a little moment of Lucius getting his perceptions shaken up.

He stood unnoticed in one corner, cane resting in front of him. Silver gray eyes scanned the restless occupants spilling off the scarlet train, looking for Draco. He wouldn't say he'd missed the boy precisely, but he knew that he was glad his son was home for the summer.

A mass of brown, bushy hair caught Lucius's eye and his nose crinkled. Ah. The Granger Mudbl-chit. He'd had to start making a conscious effort not to call Muggle-borns "Mudbloods." Or families like the Weasleys "blood traitors." After the surprising downfall of Voldemort last fall, all of the Dark Lord's...associates, shall we say, were closely monitored. Lucius had always been in it more to protect his family than because he truly believed the red-eyed nutter, but unfortunately, some of his crazy theories had rubbed off on Lord Malfoy over the years.

He watched the Granger girl as she flitted around the loading/unloading area. She had a large orange cat caught up under one arm and was pulling her trunk with the other. The cat was spitting and hissing, trying to get down, but she handled the wretched thing with considerable aplomb. Especially considering it looked like it wanted to bite her arm off. The Boy Who Lived and one of those ginger menaces were talking with her, but she seemed to be mostly ignoring them, her eyes scanning the area, obviously hoping to find someone.

"Mum! Dad!" he heard Granger shout. He turned slightly to observe a couple he hadn't noticed before, standing with the Weasley matriarch. Ah, that must have been how they'd gotten through the barrier, Lucius deduced. It was only possible for a Muggle to get to Platform 9 3/4 in direct contact with a witch or wizard. Mostly, the Muggle parents seemed to stay outside the barrier, preferring to wait for their offspring to come to them. Interesting the Grangers hadn't done it.

He looked around and sighed again. Blast, where was that boy? He had been expressly told not to dawdle. Draco had a nasty habit of bullying smaller children, as well, a habit Lucius found deplorable [although had unfortunately been forced to encourage while under the influence of the red-eyed nutter], and now that they were not, it was difficult to stop Draco. If he was doing that on the train, Lucius swore by Merlin the child would have a stinging bottom come nightfall. He was most definitely not averse to the idea of physical punishment for his offspring.

Another excited squeal drew his attention back to the Granger girl. Amazing that a Muggle-born, who'd never even _heard_ of magic besides in storybooks until she was eleven, could be so bloody brilliant. He had no doubt she would end up Head Girl in two years. Hopefully his son would be there next to her. If he wasn't, he would be getting a firm talking-to. But how _had_ she done? Draco had told him stories about how she would memorize all her course books before the year even started, how she studied for hours upon hours, memorizing books taken out of the library for research. How she virtually _lived_ in the library, come the end of the year, and only the entreaties of her friends could drag her out of a mountain of parchment and dusty old tomes. How could a Muggle-born have such...dedication? And she was a powerful witch-Lucius knew that himself, having been on the receiving end of her wand a time or two. She could have given Bellatrix a run for her Galleons. Well...in a few years, at least. An innocent schoolgirl would have virtually no chance standing up against the psychotic bitch he'd been forced to call a relative by marriage. Narcissa was ashamed of the connection. As well she should be, Bellatrix was crazed beyond recognition. She was still alive, but locked up most firmly, and permanently in Azkaban, having been Kissed just a few months previously.

The Granger father suddenly hugged Hermione, swinging her around. Her delighted laugh trailed out after her like a string of irridescent soap bubbles. Lucius watched, mesmerized. He didn't understand his sudden fascination with the girl. It's not like he was attracted to her. Merlin, no. She was a child. Growing up into a strong, lovely, young woman, but still a child. The thought of seeing her in a lecherous light revolted him. But her intelligence-yes, her intelligence drew him. Her intelligence and her magic. He never would have credited a Muggle-born with being so _brilliant_. The Muggle-borns he'd seen in school hadn't been. Oh, they were better than Squibs. They weren't completely hopeless. Certainly nothing like the wretched Longbottom boy poor Severus was always going on about, the one who'd melted enough cauldrons to keep the apothecary in business for five years. Draco was always insulting the Longbottom boy. Lucius had half a mind to take Draco to St. Mungo's and show him precisely what had happened to the boy's parents. If he could withstand that, and those painful, drawn-out visits where he would sit by their bedside, knowing that they didn't even know who he was, then he was not as bumbling an incompetent fool as Draco seemed to think.

Bloody hell, if that boy didn't come out in the next ten seconds...Lucius's hand tightened on his cane. Thankfully for Draco's well-being, the blonde Slytherin swept down the stairs from the front compartment that very minute. He wasn't carrying his own trunk...of course. Instead, Crabbe (or Goyle, Lucius couldn't really tell them apart) was lugging it along with his own. Lucius's mouth tightened. Sluggish oafs Draco's two "bodyguards" might be, he wasn't supposed to be foisting off every little bit of work on them, either.

"Son," Lucius acknowledged coolly. He wished he could reach out and hug the boy for one painful moment. Hug him and have the embrace be returned, like he could still see the Granger girl being hugged by both her parents and her friends.

"Father," Draco nodded back, a smirk twisting his thin lips into something Lucius did not like to see. Voldemort was gone, but what was his boy turning into now? He feared it was too late to change his course. He wouldn't take the Dark Mark now, of course, he couldn't. But Lucius sensed that the only "good" thing Draco was destined for was being a spoilt, self-centered, supercilious brat, depending on his reputation and his fortune to get him everywhere through life.

Not like Granger, Lucius thought again, as he took hold of Draco's arm, preparing for the impending Apparition home. He gave Draco an impatient look to pick up his own trunk. Draco muttered a hasty goodbye to Crabbe and Goyle, shuddering away from the approach of the Parkinson twit.

Granger couldn't depend on her reputation or money. She didn't have much of either. Certainly she was part of the Golden Trio, but she was also Muggle-born. Even among wizards and witches who said that of course blood status didn't mean a whit to them, she would have a difficult time. It was always there. That lingering, barely there sense of superiority a Pureblood always carried, even if they didn't realize it. The only one who didn't seem to have it was Harry, and Lucius wondered if that was because Lily was Muggle-born.

With a sigh, Lucius gave one last look at the Golden Trio, who were finally gathering all their trunks and bags and preparing to leave the train station. For one brief moment, in the blink of time it took to Apparate to Malfoy Manor, Lucius wondered what it would have been like to have Hermione as his daughter. He sensed he would have liked it.


End file.
